Tycoon's Choice: Kept by the Tycoon / Taken by the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Proposal. Kathryn Ross

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Tycoon's Choice: Kept by the Tycoon / Taken by the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Proposal - Kathryn  Ross


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part was easy. The letter to Katie, who was looking forward to having her back, was much harder to write.

      The answer came by return. Her parents, apparently to soften the blow, were buying the child a computer for her birthday, and after extracting a promise that Madeleine would keep in touch by email Katie seemed reasonably cheerful.

      The fitness centre was extremely busy, and in an effort to put the past behind her and give herself less time to brood Madeleine chose to work long hours, finding it rewarding and, after a time, therapeutic.

      The bleakness of disillusionment, mingled with the longing for what might have been had Rafe proved to be the man of principle she had thought him, began to fade but still never truly left her thoughts. By the time Alan Bannerman joined the staff, she was over the worst. Or so she told herself.

      Somehow—perhaps it was his mild manner, his charming diffidence—he got through to her, and when they had been colleagues for some six weeks she accepted a date. Apleasant, undemanding companion, he proved to be an antidote to loneliness.

      When they had known each other for three months he asked her to marry him. Thinking him placid and unemotional, she was surprised by how ardently he pressed her. Unable to give him an immediate answer, she asked for time to think it over. She was relieved when he agreed to wait a week, and they arranged to have dinner the following Saturday evening.

      When Saturday morning came and Madeleine still hadn’t been able to make up her mind, she decided to phone Eve and ask her opinion.

      Listening to the familiar voice answer laconically, ‘Hello?’ she felt a surge of homesickness.

      ‘Hi, it’s me.’

      ‘Maddy! It’s great to hear from you!’ Eve exclaimed. ‘How are things?’

      ‘I’ve got something of a problem.’

      ‘Hang on a minute while I switch off the telly…Right, fire away.’

      When Madeleine had told her, Eve exclaimed, ‘A man who’s not only nice-looking but also decent and dependable wants to marry you and you call that a problem?

      ‘Even though the love of my life finally moved in with me six weeks ago, I can’t get him to make any sort of commitment, let alone offer to marry me…’ Eve moaned. Then quickly added, ‘Don’t worry, I’m sympathetic really. It must be tough when it’s something as important as marriage and you can’t make up your mind!’

      Madeleine laughed. ‘Be serious for a second, Eve; this is important.’

      ‘What’s he like in bed?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ Madeleine admitted.

      ‘So you’ve been keeping him at arm’s length? I can’t say I blame you. Once bitten, twice shy…Though if you do decide to marry him, it might not be a bad idea to find out what kind of lover he is before you actually say “I will”…’

      ‘That’s the problem, Eve,’ Madeleine sighed, ‘I’m fond of him, but there’s no passion.’ Then, striving to be fair, ‘At least on my side.’

      ‘I thought not. Otherwise you wouldn’t still be hesitating. It’s Rafe, isn’t it? You’re still in love with him.’

      ‘No!’ Realising her denial had been too vehement, Madeleine added more moderately, ‘No, I’m not still in love with him.’

      ‘But you’ve never really got over him,’ Eve concluded.

      ‘It has nothing to do with Rafe.’

      Eve grunted her disbelief. ‘I think it has everything to do with Rafe.’

      ‘As far as he’s concerned it’s over and done with. All in the past. Truly.’ Madeleine tried to make her voice sound as persuasive as possible.

      ‘Well, I’ll believe you, thousands wouldn’t. So what do you want me to say?’

      ‘I just want a truthful opinion. Whether or not you think I should go ahead and marry Alan.’

      ‘If you need to ask my opinion, you don’t love him enough and you shouldn’t be marrying him.’

      Put like that it was blindingly simple.

      ‘Thank you,’ Madeleine said gratefully.

      ‘Don’t thank me until you’ve made up your mind.’

      ‘It’s made up.’ Madeleine smiled, relief flooding her voice.

      ‘Atta girl! Is it yes or no?’

      ‘It’s no. You’re quite right. If I needed to ask your opinion, then I don’t love him enough. It wouldn’t be fair to marry him. We’re having dinner together tonight; I’ll tell him then.’

      ‘What will you do when you’ve told him? I mean, if you work together it could make things difficult.’

      Madeleine paused, trying to decide what to do. ‘I think, for his sake, I’ll have to give in my notice and find another post.’

      ‘I agree. Leave him alone so he can gather up the pieces and get on with his life.’

      Madeleine gasped at Eve’s bluntness.

      ‘Look on it as being cruel to be kind,’ Eve said briskly. ‘You’ll be doing him no favours by hanging around. Now, how do you feel?’

      ‘I’m not sure. Relieved…a bit sad…restless…unsettled…and just hearing your voice has made me feel dreadfully homesick.’

      ‘You’ve been there for over a year, Maddy. Why don’t you come home?’

      All at once, Madeleine very much wanted to. But if she did she would be in the same city as Rafe and run a risk, however small, of seeing him.

      And that she couldn’t bear.

      Just the thought made her skin chill with panic and the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise.

      Picking up Madeleine’s unspoken fear, Eve brought it into the open. ‘Unless you’re afraid of running into Rafe?’

      ‘Well, I…’

      ‘London’s a big place, Maddy, and it’s not as if you normally move in the same social circles.’

      ‘That’s true.’ Then, saying aloud something she had only thought about, ‘He’ll no doubt be married to Fiona by now.’

      ‘I guess so. I haven’t noticed any mention of it in the papers, but then I don’t often get to read the society columns. So how about it? Are you coming home?’

      ‘I’d like to, but…’ Madeleine hesitated as the practicalities of the situation struck her. She hadn’t managed to save a great deal, and by the time she had paid her airfare she would have very little money left.

      ‘If I come home I won’t have a job.’ She voiced one of the most serious considerations.

      ‘Presumably you won’t have one there when you’ve left Wansdon Heights, and there are plenty of openings in England for a good physiotherapist.’

      ‘I’d have nowhere to live.’ Madeleine sighed.

      ‘Come to me until you find somewhere.’

      ‘You’ve only got one bedroom.’

      ‘Well, I’ve a fold-away put-you-up, and I’ve recently bought a bed-settee, like you used to have, for the lounge.’

      Momentarily tempted, then suddenly remembering, Madeleine said hastily, ‘I couldn’t possibly. What about Dave? He wouldn’t want another woman cluttering up the place, even for a short time.’

      ‘He wouldn’t dare raise any objections. I’d kick him out if he did.’ Eve laughed.

      ‘Please, Eve,’ Madeleine cried anxiously, ‘don’t fall out


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